


Too Perfect to Replace

by oceantovre



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Fluff, M/M, Oikawa is a jealous brat, Pre-Relationship, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-04-17 16:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14192616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceantovre/pseuds/oceantovre
Summary: Oikawa is 100% NOT jealous of Iwaizumi’s girlfriend.But when his best friend crawls through his window, that might change.





	Too Perfect to Replace

Ever since they were little, it hadn’t been exceedingly difficult for Oikawa to climb in to Iwaizumi’s window using first the big tree, then it’s thickest branch. So, any time the younger boy wanted to see the older, all he had to do was sneak out of his house, walk across back yards, and climb in through the window. It wasn’t uncommon, but as they grew older they found it much more useful to just go through the front door, and the window became sort of a last resort choice. 

Almost 10 years after the first time Oikawa had climbed through the window, he was incredibly tempted to do so again. It  _ was not  _ because he was jealous because  _ goddamnit Oikawa Tooru does not get jealous.  _ He was just concerned about Iwaizumi’s feelings for his new girlfriend because every time he saw them together, they looked far from a happy couple. That’s all it was. 

“Iwa-chan,” he said, poking his friend in the side after the last bell had rung. “I want to try something new at practice today.” 

Iwaizumi grunted, flicking away his best friends hand. “I have to go to dinner with Hana.” 

Oikawa pouted, more authentically than Iwaizumi knew. “You shouldn’t  _ have  _ to, Iwa-chan. Don’t you want to spend time with her?” 

Oikawa watched as a range of emotions played across his friend’s face, none of them lingering quite long enough to be decipherable. He’d been this way since they were little; his emotions were well hidden behind his stern mask and Oikawa could only take that mask off at very particular times. 

“Of course I want to, dumbass,” Iwaizumi settled on, flicking Oikawa’s arm with a grunt. Then, he collected his things and stood up, looking hesitant to leave quite yet. 

“If you stay any longer than an hour after practice,” the older boy said. “I’m going to find you and kick your ass.” 

Again, Oikawa pouted and stood up, this time a little annoyed. “I need to perfect my serve, Iwa-chan. You know that. Why do you even care?” 

Iwaizumi just made a small “tch” sound and walked towards the door, only turning around when he was in the doorframe. “One hour. Then I kick your ass.” 

______________

 

Three hours after practice, but it feels like three minutes to Oikawa. There are balls strewn all about the gym, except for the space behind the end line on one side of the court. That was the space that the captain was using to serve ball after ball to the other side of the court, aiming at the two dozen empty water bottles he had in various places. Since he’d reset them about ten minutes ago, he’d knocked over one on every serve, and was left facing half a dozen bottles.  _ You can go home once you knock them all over.  _

Another serve, another bottle down. 

Again. Another. Four left. Again, and again. Two left. 

As soon as he hit his next serve and watched it go over, he heard the gym door slam open. The sound scared him so much that he almost didn’t notice his serve hit the second to last bottle, sending it skidding. 

“Three hours, Shittykawa?” A voice asked from the doorway, and angry footsteps made their way towards the server. 

Oikawa ignored the voice, grabbing another ball and preparing for one last serve.  _ If he cares so much, he can do something about it.  _ He’d already taken his first step when he felt a foot connect with his back, pushing him to the ground, the ball dropping uselessly beside him. The fall hadn’t actually hurt, but Iwaizumi didn’t need to know that. 

“Mean!” Oikawa yelled. “You don’t get to just come back here and be mean when you weren’t even at practice.” 

“I had dinner, dumbass,” his friend responded. “She didn’t want me to come late.” 

“Yeah well,” Oikawa said, standing up and retrieving his ball, preparing another serve. “No practice, no input.” 

“Don’t do another serve,” Iwaizumi warned taking a step forward. In response, Oikawa made a point to look back and meet his eyes before launching into a full serve, hitting it the hardest he had all night, and listening  to the sound of it hitting the last water bottle. 

Then, felt a hand grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him forward into his best friend’s face. Oikawa almost regretted doing that last serve because Iwaizumi looked  _ pissed.  _ But he was only a few inches from the older boy’s face, and in any other situation this would be Oikawa’s dream. 

“Oh,” he said, tauntingly. “Are you going to kiss me Iwa-chan?”  

Oikawa was not expecting the bright flush that instantly overtook Iwaizumi’s face, which quickly morphed back into anger so fast it was nearly unnoticeable. The grip on Oikawa’s shirt tightened. 

“I’m going to hit you if you don’t stop staying here for so many hours every night,” the shorter boy seethed. Oikawa felt something inside of him flare up. Who was Iwaizumi to tell him how long he was allowed to practice?  _ He’s not my mom! He’s not my boyfriend!  _

“I’ll practice as much as I want,  _ Iwa-chan. _ ” He injected more venom into the nickname than was necessary, but at the moment he didn’t care.  It wasn’t effective apparently , because the hand around the front of his shirt just tightened more and shook him a little. 

“And what happens when you hurt yourself again because you overworked your knee? Huh?” Iwaizumi asked, his intense olive eyes forcing Oikawa's to make contact. “You have to take care of yourself. I can’t keep doing it.” 

What Iwaizumi said: I can’t keep doing it. 

What Oikawa heard: You’re not worth the time it takes.

Anything left in him that wanted to fight gave up then, because if he wasn’t worth Iwaizumi’s time, then that meant he was worthless. Oikawa turned to his friend, invisibly putting up all the barriers that he’d never had to use on Iwaizumi. The type of boundaries that he only ever had during school when there were constantly girls around him and guys respecting him. The boundaries that made him  _ Oikawa Tooru _ , volleyball star and valedictorian, instead of Oikawa Tooru, wannabe astronomer and his mother’s caretaker. Iwaizumi had only ever seen the boundaries up around other people, never with him. There was a first time for everything. 

“You’re right,” Oikawa said, with a fake smile that he  _ knew  _ looked fake and he didn’t  _ care.  _ “I guess I’ll stop. Thanks, Iwa-chan!” 

With that, he casually stepped back and let his T-shirt come off of him, left hanging in the shorter boy’s hand. Without another word, he started picking up the empty bottles that were strewn about the court. Iwaizumi was silent.  _ Good.  _

After dumping all of the bottles into a big bag that he used to hold his targets, Oikawa turned back to get the balls and glanced at Iwaizumi. The shorter boy was just standing, clenching the shirt and staring at Oikawa. 

“Do you need something?” The taller boy asked, with bite. 

Iwaizumi’s face changed again, indecipherably. “I just don’t want you getting hurt again,” he said. 

“Yeah, well,” Oikawa responded. “Worry about your girlfriend instead. She’s more important.” 

The last part is said with bite, but Oikawa doesn’t care. He finished putting up balls and grabbed his stuff, ready to go, and Iwaizumi is  _ still  _ just standing there, watching him. Rolling his eyes, Oikawa walked past him quickly, grabbing his T-shirt as he did so. 

“She isn’t.” 

Oikawa wasn’t even sure he heard it, and barely paused his walk. Pushing a huff of air out of his nose, he kept going until he’d left the gym, and the cold air of the night washed over him like waves. He half expected Iwaizumi to follow, but also knew that he wasn’t going to. 

Ignoring the bite of loneliness and the sting of the night air on his skin, Oikawa made the long trek home alone for the first time in ages. 

______________

“Oikawa-san!” 

Of course it would be her, calling him over to sit at her little table with all of her friends. Of course it would be her, with her hand linked around Iwaizumi’s bicep which was  _ borderline PDA like seriously do you have any shame?  _

He couldn’t ignore her, not without making a scene, so he just swallowed the bile rising in his throat and made his way over. 

Iwaizumi didn’t even look up, instead suddenly becoming very invested in the food on the plate in front of him. It had been about a week since they’d...well it wasn’t exactly a fight was it? But it was  _ something  _ and that in and of itself was enough to set their friendship 50 shades of off balanced. Clearly, Iwaizumi’s girlfriend did not know about it. 

Once he reached the table, he flashed a winning smile,  _ fake _ , and sat down by some guy he thought he knew, across from Iwaizumi and his girlfriend.  _ Her name is Hana. No need to be rude.  _

“Hello, Hana-san,” he said, giving her just a bit wider of a smile. “How are you?” 

“Good!” She said, ever-peppy.  _ Being that happy all the time must be exhausting.  _ “How are you? How’s volleyball?” 

The whole table turned to look at Oikawa. If there was one thing that the students of Aoba Johsai took oddly seriously, it was their boys volleyball club. Maybe it was because they were good, or maybe it was because they were good-looking. It didn’t matter to Oikawa, since as soon as he stepped on the court, on the game ahead mattered. 

“I think we’ve got a good chance,” Oikawa said. “Good team all around. Our  _ ace  _ has missed a few practices, but he’s good enough that it’s fine, right Iwa-chan?” 

Only Oikawa would be provocative enough to force Iwaizumi into conversation, and that was exactly what he wanted. The spike-haired boy looked up at Oikawa, their eyes meeting for the first time in a week. If he wasn’t so used to having his boundaries up at school, the anger in Iwaizumi’s eyes would have scared Oikawa. But behind the boundaries, there was no reason to be scared. 

“I’ve been spending time with Hana,” Iwaizumi said simply, and his girlfriend responded by pushing in closer to him with a smile. Oddly, he didn’t reciprocate any of it, just letting her burrow in like an animal for winter. 

Oikawa smiled sweetly, because that’s what  _ Oikawa Tooru  _ does. “Of course. I’d hate to split up the happy couple. Mad dog-chan has been getting better anyway.” 

The table went silent, and Oikawa smiled to himself.  _ He  _ knew that he could never replace Iwaizumi with Kyoutani as the ace, but there was no doubt that that was the threat laced into Oikawa’s words. 

“Kyoutani is unreliable. You know that,” Iwaizumi said, narrowing his eyes. “There’s a reason you call him Mad Dog.” 

“Unreliable, hm?” Oikawa said sweetly, popping a piece of milk bread into his mouth. “Maybe some private lessons can straighten him out.” 

“You do private lessons?” Hana suddenly asked, her curiosity seeming so genuine it disgusted Oikawa, who shrugged. 

“I do practice after normal practice. I could ask him to stay for a night, and I bet you I’d have a new ace by morning.” 

“B-but you can’t replace Iwa, can you?” She asked, looking to her boyfriend as if the answer would come from him. Oikawa shrugged again.  _ He replaced me.  _

“I’ve learned recently that everyone is apparently replaceable,” he responded, maintaining eye contact with Iwaizumi. “A little work after practice does wonders.” 

Iwaizumi scoffed then. “You think three hours is  _ a little work _ , dumbass? I would call that overdoing it.” 

The flames inside of Oikawa’s chest erupted again, but he managed to just raise an eyebrow and send Iwaizumi a dead-pan glare. “I call it dedication. You should know, Iwa-chan. You have Hana-san, and I have volleyball.” 

“And isn’t that a little sad?” 

Flames. Burning in his heart. He could practically taste the smoke in his lungs. “At least I’m actually in love.” 

The look of anger on Iwaizumi’s face was unmatched by anything Oikawa had ever seen. 

“With volleyball? And how happy does that make you when you wreck your knee?” 

By now, the table was watching the situation in front of them like a television show. Most of them had figured that this wasn’t the beginning of a fight, so they stayed out of it. Oikawa only hoped that they wouldn’t think this was going to be the end of it either. 

“At least I’ll have known I actually tried my best to be with what I love,” Oikawa said, and suddenly it was painfully obvious that this wasn’t about how lame loving volleyball was. This was...something more. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, dumbass?” Iwaizumi growled, and started to move before the bell rung overhead. He glared one last time at Oikawa before turning to help Hana with her bags. The poor girl looked traumatized, and Oikawa could help but roll his eyes as he walked away from the table. 

______________

Another week, and Oikawa felt wrecked. 

Sleep had never come easily to him, but the past two weeks had only made it worse. Between taking care of his mom and taking care of his schoolwork and volleyball, taking care of himself was a figment of imagination. 

Eating was even trickier. His diet had consisted of milk bread and water, and that was only if he remembered he was supposed to eat at all. It had gotten bad enough that even Hanamaki had made a concerned comment, and forced him to take a piece of his lunch. 

He felt stupid. He knew  _ how  _ to take care of himself in theory, but for some reason he just couldn’t find the time. And when he did have time, he spent it curled up under his covers with his head between his knees crying because life was  _ too hard  _ and it was  _ not fair.  _

That’s what he was doing right now, because for some stupid reason he couldn’t get stupid Iwaizumi off his stupid mind, and his dad had called to berate him about not helping his mom enough and he had missed his serve in a practice match and the coach had told him to work on it and he worked on it  _ every night  _ and he tried  _ so hard  _ so what more was he supposed to do and it was all just so...much. He felt himself choking on his sobs, but the blankets around his face muffled them enough to the point where it didn’t seem so loud. He was on his floor, in the corner, because that’s where he was least likely to be heard by anyone passing by his window. 

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. “You’re so stupid.” 

And suddenly, the flames were back but they weren’t anger. Flames of sadness and jealousy and hate and all of it misplaced and thrown askew because he was  _ so stupid _ . The flames were so loud that he didn’t hear his window opening, nor did he hear the sound of his best friend climbing in through the window. Not that he would expect that; ever since they were little, Oikawa had climbed into Iwaizumi’s window, not the other way around. But yet, it was happening. 

“Oi, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, and the taller boy startled at the voice, his sobs stopping immediately as he buried his face deeper into the covers.  _ Why is he here? He can’t see me like this!  _ “What’s your problem with Hana?” 

The question itself was enough to send another flame down Oikawa’s spine, and he turned around to face his friend before remembering how he must look. 

“I don’t have a problem,  _ Iwaizumi.  _ Ask her, maybe. Apparently you like her more anyway,” Oikawa said, before turning back and burying his head in the blankets once again. He hadn’t missed the look of shock on Iwaizumi’s face. 

“O-oi Shittykawa. What’s wrong?” He asked, to which Oikawa saw no merit in responding because there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make Iwaizumi mad. Then, he felt a hand on his back, and that set him off. Jumping out of the blankets, Oikawa hurtled himself up onto his bed and away from Iwaizumi. 

“No! You don’t get to disappear for two weeks and then just  _ touch  _ my back and try to make me feel better! That isn’t fair,” he yelled, fully aware that he sounded bratty and pouty and whiny and he just didn’t  _ care.  _

“It’s not my fault I haven’t been here!” Iwaizumi immediately yelled back. “You avoid me like the plague and you avoid Hana like she’s Kageyama!” 

“Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to be best friends with my replacement?” 

The words slipped out before he even really meant to say them, and he took a quick breath before amending them. “Your girlfriend. I don’t want to be friends with your girlfriend.”  Oikawa turned his back to his friend quickly, not wanting to have to face up to anything he just said. It was stupid, and it was cowardly but hey, Iwaizumi basically already thought he was worthless so there was nothing worse than that. 

He felt Iwaizumi sink down onto the bed next to him, which was fine because at least he wasn’t trying to touch him again, but he still scooted away because it seemed like what he should do. 

“Oikawa, look at me.” 

_ No.  _ Oikawa wasn’t just going to give in to that, because that would mean Iwaizumi wins again. 

“Oikawa.” 

_ No.  _

“Don’t be like that.” 

_ Don’t be so worthless.  _

“Oikawa, please.” 

_ Look. He sounds sad. You’re going to make him cry. How do you feel now.  _

_ “ _ Tooru.” 

The taller boy’s neck snapped up, because Iwaizumi  _ never  _ called him by his first name and it both intrigued him and pissed him off. As soon as he opened his mouth to voice this, there was suddenly a hand on his mouth, stopping the words. That pissed Oikawa off, but he didn’t do anything because Iwaizumi was talking. 

“First of all, she is my ex-girlfriend,” he said, and Oikawa’s jaw dropped under his hand.  _ Ex? _ “Second of all…” 

Oikawa suppressed any gasp as the hand on his mouth slowly moved down to his jawline, cupping his face and drawing it up until their eyes met. He’d looked at Iwaizumi plenty of times, but something about this moment felt so much more intense. 

“Nobody could ever replace you,” Iwaizumi finished, his eyes still locked on Oikawa’s. 

Oikawa’s eyes widened, and his voice got caught in his throat.  _ What.  _

“Iwa-chan,” he gasped. Then, his practicality got the better of him. “ You mean because I’m so annoying right? No one else can be this annoying?” 

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, moving in closer to Oikawa and putting his other hand somewhere on his thigh. “No, that is not what I mean.” 

“But...you liked Hana. Why did you break up?” Oikawa asked. 

“Because that was it. I  _ liked  _ her. She was nice. But it didn’t compare to what I was feeling for someone else.” 

Oikawa’s heart leapt into his chest.  “W-who?” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, moving in  _ even closer _ and Oikawa could literally hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “You’re smarter than that, Shittykawa. If I can figure out that you’re jealous of Hana, then you can figure out why that wasn’t okay with me.” 

“I  _ wasn’t  _ jealous-”

He’s cut off by lips being pressed against his own, firm and soft and a little bit dry but still perfect and warm. The hand on his jawline threaded up the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling the setter closer to his ace. Oikawa let himself settle finally, letting the fire of the kiss fight back the flames burning up his insides. 

By the time they pull away, Oikawa’s tears have mostly dried and he’s able to look at Iwaizumi with a softer stare. 

“Iwa-chan-”

“Nobody can replace you, idiot,” the spiker grunted. “You’re too perfect to replace.” 

Oikawa smiled his first genuine smile in weeks. 

“I-I think I love you, Iwa-chan.” 

“I know I love you, Shittykawa.” 

 

“That’s so unromantic, you brute!” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments and feedback!  
> Next I’m going to work on a part 2 to my other Iwaoi fic because apparently people like it??


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